


Unexpected Comfort

by Morrigayn_DeWyvern



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Breastfeeding, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 08:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2061315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morrigayn_DeWyvern/pseuds/Morrigayn_DeWyvern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is a request and gift fic for NoxVZhuusox.  This is my first Dinobot story.  I am writing in the G1 with influences from other continuities because the Dinobots are more intelligent, in the other continuities, than portrayed in G1 cartoon especially in later seasons.  This is AU completely.  M for Breast/feeding kink request.  Family/angst.  No smut. No horror. Not part of my CC AU.  </p><p>I don’t own anything nor am I making money.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Grimlock groaned and rubbed his helm. His processor ached and seemed to beat in time to his spark. His Primus damned brothers had gotten into a fight again. The Dinobots about demolished their small abode before Grimlock could break them up.

Grimlock had been working in his office to finalize plans for shared training with one of Rodimus Prime’s new units when he heard and felt a huge crash down the way from his office followed by snarls, growls, bellows and curses. Grimlock hurried down the hall and threw open the door to the Recreation Room to find three of his four brothers locked together in a furious brawl. In a fit of fury, Grimlock waded into the fray throwing punches and kicks with painful efficiency. Being the largest and strongest, the other three seen broke apart and retreated to different corners of the room.

“Why you fight?” Grimlock snarled at his brethren. The other three began to yell at the top of their ventilations all at once. From what Grimlock could make out Slag started a fight with the other two.

“Why you, Slag, fight with them brothers, Sludge and Snarl?”

Slag growled out, “Told truth. Him, Sludge, stupider than an Autobot. Him, Snarl, uglier than a Decepticon.”

Grimlock could hardly believe his audios. Slag was calling the others names, and they all got into a brawl like sparklings over it.

“Why you, Slag, call others bad names?” Grimlock asked.

“We training to prepare for new recruits from him, Rodimus. I beat them, Sludge and Snarl. Them said Slag fights dirty and cheated. SLAG DOES NOT CHEAT!” Slag bellowed out the last words and stomped his peds as a demonstration of power.

The other two started yelling.

“Him, Slag, tripped me!” Sludge yelled. 

“Him, Slag, spit in my optics!” Snarl yelled.

“Slag told him, Sludge, too stupid like Autobot if him trip over peds. Slag, told him, Snarl, him so ugly that spit would be improvement. Spit might clean optics, too, so could see better and not get hit.” Slag laughed.

At Slag’s laugh, Sludge and Snarl bellowed and jumped Slag. All three proceeded to roll over the Rec. Room tables and chairs while throwing punches completely destroying the Rec. Room. Windows broke. Energon dispensers were turned over. Energon ran in viscous puddles. The three hellions slid and fell in the energon and still cursed and fought the other.

Grimlock had seen and heard enough. He shot fire across his brothers. Energon ignited and burned out. Armor plates were singed. All three of the miscreants yelped and turned with betrayed optics at their older brother and leader.

“SILENCE!” Grimlock roared as he began to pace back and forth. “Snarl, Sludge, Slag, you all sparklings. Foolish! Fight over names. Names not hurt…”

Slag jumped up, “Me, Slag, tired of him, Grimlock, always bossing us around. Me, Slag, tired of not fighting…tired of living with other Dinobots.” Slag turned and stumped off to his room down the hall. He slammed the door hard enough to rattle the hinges. Slag’s EM field was full of frustration and anger.

Sludge was the next to lumber to his feet. He didn’t have anything to say, but his EM field was full of hurt. Sludge knew he didn’t have the fastest processor, but he was strong. That didn’t seem to mean much to Slag…or Grimlock. Sludge snuffled a bit, hunched his shoulders and retreated from the room.

Snarl was the last to get up off the floor. He slipped in the goo, lost his balance and landed on his aft with a hard thud. Snarl winced and got up and muttered, “Nobody like him, Snarl.” Snarl’s EM field was full of self-loathing and shame.

“Wait…come back….clean room!” Grimlock yelled. Silence was his only answer. He tried the Dinobot communication frequency and then the general Autobot frequency. None of the offending parties would answer. Swoop was with First Aid continuing to apprentice under the new CMO and offered to return to help clean. Grimlock told Swoop to stay with First Aid.

Grimlock snarled and began the arduous task of cleaning up the ruined Rec. Room. Trash was picked up and put in reclamation units. Tables and chairs, that weren’t broken, were righted. Energon dispensers were cleaned and refilled. Grimlock carefully gathered up the broken shards from the windows so that no bot would end up with them in peds. Grimlock sent a short data burst to Rodimus Prime to put in a requisition for more windows. Grimlock then slowly and meticulously mopped the floor to remove the residue of the energon, the scuffs and the cinder from his foolish blast. Grimlock had cursed and grumbled throughout the ordeal.

By the time he had finished cleaning, it was very late in the night cycle. A simple scan told Grimlock that Swoop had returned home and like the others, was recharging. Instead of EM fields that were in harmonious accord strengthening the whole, the whole was a discordant, discombobulated mess that grated on Grimlock’s EM field.

Grimlock stomped to his recharge room. He turned and locked the door. He wanted to recharge and forget that his day ever happened, but the pain in his processor and spark were too much. Instead, he grabbed a cube of high grade from a carefully hidden stash, made his way to his desk and sat down. Grimlock sipped at the cube slowly. He needed to relax and think not get overcharged and pass out.

Grimlock thought about his brothers. They were a surly lot on the best days. Here lately, they had been downright antisocial and uncommonly violent. Slag, Snarl and Sludge had been in numerous fights with each other and Autobots recruits in the last few vorns. It was increasing in frequency. Even gentle Swoop had been irritable and noncompliant. The Dinobots spent more time apart than together. When they were together they bickered and fought. When apart they fought others and destroyed things.

Grimlock stared into his cube. How had it come to this? Grimlock was supposed to be their leader…big brother. Sometimes Grimlock felt like a failure.

Grimlock continued to sip on his high grade energon. It was a good batch with a mellow, sweet taste that left a warm trail down his intakes and settled comfortably into his fuel tank before spreading a tingling buzz throughout his systems. Grimlock mused that his Creator, Ratchet, had loved a good cube of high grade once in a while and would have really enjoyed this batch. Old grief and pangs of loneliness and nostalgia gripped the leader of the Dinobot’s spark.

Wheeljack, his other Creator, Ratchet and so many others had offlined when Megatron…now Galvatron…and the Decepticons attacked and destroyed Autobot City. While it had been devastating for the Autobots in general, the event had been catastrophic for the Dinobots.

In the beginning, the Dinobots had been considered stupidly violent by everyone but their Creators. They were not stupid, but had been designed and sparked for the sole purpose of destroying Decepticons by command of the very same Prime and officers that distrusted them so much. Initially, the Dinobots had been stubborn, unpredictable and violent more so even than the Pit spawned twins, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. Wheeljack and Ratchet had worked hard to introduce software programming, nanites and hardware upgrades so that the Dinobots could mature and develop more like a naturally sparked Cybertronian. They had also spent many hours working with the Dinobots and the Autobots to help the former integrate with the latter. It was a slow process with many bumps and unforeseen accomplishments on both sides.

All of that hard work and hard earned respect, for the Dinobots, had went the way of Ratchet, Wheeljack and the others to the All Spark. Now the small, unique group was alone amongst Autobots who did not know them or knew of them only anecdotally. The majority of said Autobots felt superior due to being sparked by Vector Sigma or emerging from parents not developed in a tank on Earth, and others felt they were just stupid and violent. It made Grimlock and his brethren furious that such disdain did not extend to the Aerial Bots or the Protectobots which were Grimlock’s brothers, too, in a sense, as they had been built and sparked by Ratchet and Wheeljack for the purposes of war.

Grimlock ran his hands down his faceplates. What he wouldn’t give for his Creators to walk through the door. He needed direction he couldn’t find within his own processor. Ratchet would have whacked him hard with a wrench before sitting down to listen to him and would offer a good bit of snark and sarcasm peppered with bits of wisdom. Wheeljack would offer an upgrade and probably blow something up in the process. After his Creators had died, Grimlock and the others had discovered…sometimes haphazardly…that their Creators had inserted dormant programming and protoform upgrades to continue the Dinobot development in case their Creators were destroyed. The continuing upgrades and programming gave Grimlock little comfort in his current predicament, and he didn’t have anyone who he felt secure with to talk to about the Dinobot problems.

Grimlock would be damned to the Pit for eternity before asking the new Prime for any assistance. Grimlock huffed a dark, barking laugh at the thought. New Prime…Pit…he’d just come to a grudging respect and understanding of Optimus when the fragger got himself offlined. Now some upstart kid younger than even Grimlock had been given the Matrix of Leadership and strutted around like that small red rooster from Earth. Grimlock had to search his high grade hazed process for the name for a moment. Oh, yes, a Banty Rooster…giving orders and expecting everyone to jump one moment then wavering with self-doubt the next. The new Prime couldn’t find his aft with a map and both hands in Grimlock’s opinion.

Grimlock’s thoughts darted from the Autobots to his brethren. Grimlock could admit to himself, if no other, that the actions of his brothers as well as himself hadn’t helped matters. During the time immediately after their Creators’ deaths, the Dinobots had been consumed with grief and rage. They hunted, attacked and destroyed all Decepticons they came across no matter if they had defected or had been taken prisoner. Every ‘Con had to pay for the suffering of the Dinobots. The Dinobots would not listen to commands from the new Prime or his officers. When said Prime and officers tried to punish or incarcerate the Dinobots, they fought and seriously damaged the new Prime, his officers and destroyed the base and the brig. 

Grimlock had encouraged the worst behavior with his brothers concerning the Autobots in bitterness of how they were received as well as in anger over the perception that the Autobots were not doing enough to avenge the dead and eliminate the Decepticon menace. Why they had not been put in stasis or terminated, Grimlock would never know. He strongly suspected it was the memories of the old Prime, Optimus, floating around in the spark and processor of Rodimus that had stayed the new Prime’s hand.

Truthfully, Grimlock didn’t really care about how the Dinobots had treated the others. What had caused Grimlock’s processor and spark ache was when they had started to fight and bicker amongst themselves. They always had a jocular, rough camaraderie. They often fought and bickered amongst themselves but in the end all of them knew they were together against the world. Now, the fighting had become divisive and bitter. Now, each of the Dinobots was carrying grudges against the others. It was personal and angry. They tried to actually hurt each other both in protoform and spark. It was becoming a vicious cycle that had to stop. Grimlock had no idea how to broker peace with his brothers.

Other than fighting or training, the Dinobots had little in way of relieving tensions. They had no mates or close friends to interface with or engage in playing games or just keeping company. No Autobot or Decepticon had ever shown any interest in any of them. While they had normal desires for intimate relations of the physical and spark as well as friendship, none offered, and the few times any of them had tried, they had been brutally rebuffed. They did not interface with one another nor had any desire to. Subconsciously, they had developed the human taboo against interfacing with siblings. Furthermore, as they were not split spark twins or part of a gestalt they had no need to spark merge with each other.

Grimlock grimaced at the memory of sweet, gentle Swoop being enamored of the golden Lamborghini, Sunstreaker. Even now, Grimlock trembled in rage at the long dead Autobot’s very loud and caustic rant that humiliated Swoop in front of everyone in the Arks’ Recreation Room. Swoop hadn’t even done anything more than offer Sunstreaker a cube of energon. Sunstreaker knocked the cube of energon from Swoop’s hand; and with a viscous look of offense and sadistic glee, proceeded to rant and rave at the cringing Swoop about how ugly he was and that no sane Cybertronian of any faction would have anything to do with a Dinobot outside of fighting. Swoop ran from the Rec. Room sobbing and had been inconsolable. After that, Swoop never tried to be friendly with any Autobot outside of his work. The pain had been too deep. Swoop believed he was ugly and unlovable.

The Dinobots, sans Swoop, had waited until Sunstreaker was on patrol and attacked him. It took Ratchet and Wheeljack using a stasis protocol to get the Dinobots off of Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker barely lived and was in the medbay for almost a human year and then rehab for another six months. Sunstreaker carried a permanent grudge against the Dinobots, and no other Autobot would make the attempt to get personal with them. The Dinobots spend a good stretch in the brig, but they all thought it had been worth it and enjoyed Sunstreaker’s slight cringe when they happened by.

None of this reminiscing changed anything Grimlock thought dourly. Actions not thoughts changed things. Grimlock scowled at his own sentimentality and tried to take another sip of high grade. He belatedly noticed his cube of high grade was empty when he tried to sip from the cube and only swallowed air. Grimlock shook his helm and tossed the empty cube in the trash receptacle. He noticed he had pounding processor ache, his protoform was aching and his spark was feeling odd.

“Damn high grade was contaminated.” Grimlock growled as he rubbed his helm and pinched his small sensory horns to ease the pain.

Grimlock had no more idea of what to do than he did before he sat down and began to drink. He huffed in annoyance and decided that maybe a good recharge would be best. He stood to go to his recharge room when the study began to spin. Grimlock flailed and tried to grab the corner of his desk as darkness overcame him. He fell heavily to the floor and pulled the desk down on top of him in the process.

As Grimlock slumbered in a program induced black out, data began to uncurl from dormant memory trees in his processor. The programs integrated themselves into his CPU and OS then activated nanites. The nanites were released in a torrent and began to go about the task of upgrading Grimlock’s processor and protoform.


	2. Chapter 2

Grimlock woke to deep shooting pains in his processor and myriad aches in his chassis. He shook his helm trying to clear his processor and assess his situation. The last thing he remembered was falling after drinking contaminated high grade. He onlined his optics to the dark. The lights had automatically gone off when the sensors did not detect motion. As his processor cleared, he noticed new programming on his HUD. His processor was running at a low speed at it integrated the new material, and he wasn’t sure what the latent programming was for. He now knew it wasn’t contaminated high grade that caused him to fall out.

“Damn them, Wheeljack and Ratchet!” Grimlock growled. He absolutely hated having latent programming becoming active. While he knew his creators had his best interests in mind, Grimlock detested the idea of programming hidden within and the loss of control when the conditions within or without prompted the unzipping of said programming and integration. Also the aftereffects of the new programming onlining left him with a huge processor ache and pains in his protoform for orns. Grimlock grabbed the desk corner and hauled himself into a sitting position. Fluid heavily sloshed and gurgled in his chassis. He lost his tenuous balance and fell forward onto his faceplates. Grimlock yelped in pain and surprise. He pushed himself back up into a sitting position and leaned back against the desk. The sloshing and gurgling slowly dissipated. Grimlock was confused and becoming scared at the situation. This was not normal!

Grimlock gave the command for his chest and abdominal plates to open. Weak light from his erratically beating spark shed watery light into the gloom. Grimlock looked down to see what was going on inside. His optics widened to giant orbs. His jaw fell open and his ventilations began to come in ragged, broken gasps. Inside of his chest and abdominal plates where once were two vertical lines of four tiny protuberances running down on either side of his spark chamber down to his upper abdomen now were heavy, pendulous pouches full of energon tipped with fully developed, large feeding nubs. Grimlock began to tremble at the sight. His shaking hand reached out to touch the strange things hanging on his protoform. He hissed at the sensations as one clawed finger slid over a feeding nub. He shook his helm in denial. This could not be happening. He had never interfaced and was not heavy with sparkling. Why would Wheeljack and Ratchet do this to him? Abject terror clouded the large Dinobot’s processor. His EM fields flared erratically and widely in panic. His spark was pulsing irregularly in response to his situation. He screamed at the top of his vocalizer and clawed at the feeding lines to rip them from his being.

Further down the hall, all of his brethren were startled awake at the panicked EM field of Grimlock and his terrified screams. Fear chilled their collective sparks. Grimlock was a rock of strength. They had never heard such terrible, pitiful sounds of fear from their older brother cum leader. Swoop was the first to regain his processor and jumped quickly from his berth. Swoop’s training with Ratchet and later First Aid had overcome his immediate fears. His first concern was that Grimlock was suffering a malfunction that required medical assistance. He noticed the others were opening the doors to their recharge rooms and looking around uncertainly. All of them flinched at another howl of pain and fear reverberating from Grimlock’s office.

Sludge ponderously ran toward the sound. “Him, Grimlock, hurt!”

“Me, Swoop, will go. Stay!” Swoop tried to reason with Sludge.

Sludge ignored the words of the smaller Dinobot and continued to thud toward the office. Snarl and Slag also ignored Swoop to follow Sludge. Swoop followed last in the line of thundering peds. Sludge threw the door open to Grimlock’s office and hit the switch to turn on the lights. The harsh light bathed the room revealing a horrific and disturbing scene.

Grimlock sat on the floor with his chassis plates open. He was pulling and clawing at large hills of protoform flesh with every intention of pulling his body apart. There were gashes and bruises on those lumps of protoform. Energon and other fluids ran thickly over their brother’s hands. Grimlock was shaking and crying. Large tears of cleanser and coolant ran in heavy rivulets down Grimlock’s faceplates. Sludge, Snarl and Slag just stared in shock at the strange sight before them. Their processors were in a fugue and struggled to comprehend what they were seeing. Their collective mouths hung open. Swoop pushed through the silent statues of his brothers.

“Move, big lugs, me, Swoop, need in!” Swoop squawked at his brethren. The others gave easily at his pushes. Like waves parting, the other three made room for the smallest Dinobot.

Swoop took in the scene. His medical protocols running at full capacity. Instinctually, Swoop knelt down and grabbed Grimlock’s hands. 

“Stop, Grimlock, you are hurting yourself!” It showed the severity of the situation that Swoop broke with the Dinobot dialect into normal conversational tones.

Grimlock tried to pull his hands away from Swoop. Swoop had been augmented with extra strength and endurance when he began to train as a medic. He tightened his grip on Grimlock’s struggling hands and held them firm. Finally, the leader of the Dinobots quit his frantic struggling and turned his panic stricken optics on Swoop.

“Swoop….you must help me!” Grimlock began to sob.

Swoop washed his EM field over his brother to calm him. “Calm down, Grimlock. That’s it ventilate deeply. Let me scan you to see what is wrong.”

Grimlock ventilated deeply and tried to get the maelstrom of his emotions under control. He slowly inhaled cooling oxygen and exhaled heated, stale exhaust. Swoop continued to wash a soothing EM pulse over Grimlock and to hold his hands but not to keep them from harming himself but as a comfort. Finally, Grimlock quit shaking and was beginning to think clearly. Swoop then ran a scan over his older brother’s protoform. He gently released Grimlock’s hands and removed a few first aid supplies and some cloths from his subspace. With infinite gentleness, Swoop wiped the faceplates of Grimlock. Grimlock was beginning to feel foolish and grabbed the cloth and began to wipe his own face.

“Me, Grimlock, fine. Can fix this?” Grimlock made vague motions to his chest and upper abdomen.

Swoop looked at the lacerated and bruised feeding lines. He ran another scan over the feeding lines and up to Grimlock’s helm and processor. “You didn’t have feeding lines, Grimlock, are you with sparkling?”

Grimlock glared at Swoop, “Me, Grimlock, like all of Dinobots. Seals intact. Nobody interface with Dinobots!”

Swoop looked at the readings on his HUD. Nothing was abnormal in the reports, but before his very optics, his oldest brother had fully developed and heavily full feeding lines.

“When did this happen, Grimlock?” Swoop inquired gently.

“After them, Sludge, Snarl and Slag, got into fight!” Grimlock waved his hands out at his other brothers standing there at loss at what to do. “Me, Grimlock, cleaned up their mess. Went to office to think. Had a cube of high grade. Stood to go to recharge. Felt dizzy…thought energon contaminated. Fell down. Woke up like this! Wheeljack and Ratchet fault. FIX IT!” Grimlock roared at the end of his tirade.

Swoop shook his helm in negative, “Me, Swoop, think cannot fix what Wheeljack and Ratchet program. Not mean to be fixed, but is part of who you are meant to be.” 

Swoop tried to clean the damaged feeding lines and apply a bit of first aid. On a closer inspection, Swoops sensors found that the damage was superficial, and the feeding lines were stronger and thicker than other feeding lines he had seen on most Cybertronians.

Grimlock roughly pushed Swoop away and stood up to his full height. “Me, Grimlock, leader of Dinobots, cannot be like this!”

The other three moved in closer to see what Grimlock was waving to. They were astonished at what they thought were lumps of protoform were a row of four feeding lines hanging pendulously down either side of Grimlock’s spark chamber and extending to his upper abdomen. As the four younger Dinobots’ EM fields intermingled with Grimlock’s, he felt a tightening in the feeding lines. With absolute disgust, he watched as all eight nubs let down simultaneously. A torrent of dense, sweet sparkling type energon sprayed from each nub thickly coating Swoop and the others in a viscous mess. The scent was permeating Grimlock’s protoform was cloying in the close atmosphere. Grimlock roared in embarrassment and began to hastily swipe at the fluid with the cloth he had used to wipe his face plates. He glanced up at his brethren to offer a weak apology when he noticed their stillness. All of them were frozen like statues. Their optics flickered in the pattern he had come to associate with latent programming uncurling from data trees in his brothers. Their EM fields were deeply enmeshed with his. As the data uncurled, a data-burst from Grimlock’s long dead creators began to scroll across his HUD.

Grimlock began to curse as he read it, “Damn you to Pit, Wheeljack and Ratchet. When I return to All Spark, me, Grimlock promise by Primus will beat you!”

Grimlock ran his hands over his faceplates and leaned back against the desk and waited for their programming to unzip and integrate. He growled at the continually leaking feeding nubs. He sent a command for his chassis plates to close, but the order caused an error message to ping his HUD.

“Command: invalid. Programming not integrated into Dinobots. Initial feeding not completed.”

“Damn you Ratchet and Wheeljack!” Grimlock rumbled as he sat and waited.

Grimlock waited impatiently for his brethren to wake from their forced semi-stasis as his long dead Creators’ programing uncurled and integrated. Grimlock would have left them to go destroy things in the training room if his protoform would comply any of his commands to shut his chest plates. Each time he tried, the same error popped up on his HUD. He was not about to get up and saunter around with eight huge feeding lines, fully engorged and weeping, wobbling on his chassis. While he was absolutely furious at Ratchet and Wheeljack, he understood the reasoning behind the latent program. The Dinobots had been sparked whole and adult. They were never sparklings neither from Vector Sigma nor from a bonded pair. They had come online with no bonds of familiar frame types mentoring them as it happened with Vector Sigma sparklings. They had no parents or siblings with similar EM fields, spark signatures, etc. They onlined and were sent straight to battle with the common understanding, excepting Wheeljack and Ratchet, that they were little more than upgraded drones. With no familiar frame types, they were the only Dinobots, and no true parents, they were aberrant.

Wheeljack and Ratchet had worried about their unusual progeny. Their other creations, the Aerialbots and the Protectobots, while created similarly, had gesalt bonds as well as more familiar frame type as the other Autbobots. They had integrated with the normal Cybertronians, and their odd origins were forgotten or glossed over. Wheeljack and Ratchet knew, after the fact, that they had done a great evil to their first children in following the commands of Optimus Prime, and their own curiosity, to incorporate organic designs into them. The Dinobots were truly and utterly alone. It had been Ratchet that came up with the idea to integrate sparkling bonding and feeding protocols into the Dinobots to activate under extremis. They could not go back and encode gestalt bonds, but they could upgrade basic protocols inherent in every Cybertronian no matter their origins. Ratchet had worked on the programming for a very long time with Wheeljack. They had tested and re-tested the programming and tweaked sparkling protocols to fit the large, non-sparkling Dinobots’ needs. One day, they had called the Dinobots to the med bay to give them upgrades to their processors, CPUs and weapons systems. Along with those upgrades, Ratchet had inserted the latent programming with the rest of it. Ratchet and Wheeljack had decided that since Grimlock was the de facto leader of the Dinobots, he should be the “parent” anchor to the “sparkling” bonds in the others.

Grimlock roused from his musings and rereading of the data burst when the others’ EM fields began to oscillate in regular rhythms. Grimlock knew it would not be long until his brothers/children woke. He was so unsure of what to do or how to act. Grimlock’s EM field instinctually flared to cover his brethren as they came more online. Swoop woke first followed by Sludge, Snarl and finally Slag. Where lately, the four would have found their brother/leader’s EM field grating and irritating, it was now soothing and the sight of swollen, taut feeding lines filled with sweet, sparkling energon was unbearably enticing. Their processors were still fogged from the programming, and they reacted on instinct. Grimlock watched his brothers drop to their knee joints and crawl over to him. He stiffened as they curled around him and clamored over him. Each of them was vying for a place next to his spark chamber. They made small growls, chirrs and snuffles. Grimlock felt almost smothered from their desperate snuggling as they rooted for a feeding nub. He wanted to push them off and snarl at them. He knew they were not in control of their processors; the latent programming would not settle into a normal routine until they suckled, but Grimlock was scared and angry. His EM field reflected all of his emotions. 

His brothers stiffened and began to chirp and wail in rejection like sparklings their programming were emulating. They desperately wanted and needed to bond and suckle with their “Carrier.”

Swoop’s optics filled with coolant that ran in thick rivulets down his faceplates. His sobs were the loudest and most pained. Rejection was deeply etched in the Pterosaur Bot’s spark ever since Sunstreaker had rejected him so vilely many vorns ago. His brother’s refusal to soothe him shattered Swoop’s spark. He trembled so hard his armor rattled, and the smaller kibble fell off. The other three responded to the most emotional and timid of their family’s distress by sobbing and crying all the louder. They clung to each other for what little support and warmth they could find. Their mournful sounds; pitiful, dejected appearance as well as their EM fields triggered the Carrier programming within the large Tyrannosaur Bot. Grimlock began to chirp and click at his brothers to soothe them and encourage them back to his body. They resisted at first scared of their older brother’s ire. Grimlock huffed and opened his arms to them. 

Swoop came first…desperate for acceptance and love. Swoop buried his faceplates in Grimlock’s neck and cried. Grimlock gently rubbed the back struts of the suffering mech. He murmured soothing nonsense in the audios of the baby of the family. Finally, Swoop quieted and lay against his brother. Grimlock gently maneuvered the smaller bot to the top, left feeding nub. Swoop nuzzled at the soft tip and inhaled deeply the scent of his brother/Carrier before latching on. The letdown was full and sweet. Swoop gurgled happily and found the rhythm for expressing and swallowing the sweet, thick energon. His EM field began to sync with Grimlock’s instilling the parental bond within Swoop. The small bot’s optic’s closed in contentment and his EM field radiated a deep peace and completion as he continued to suckle. He had found his home and felt the bond of a true family.

Sludge was next to break away from the massive huddle of the remaining Dinobots. The dimmest of the Dinobots had always just needed his brother’s understanding that while he wasn’t the smartest, he was strong and loyal and needed a bit of patience as he struggled to understand some things that were beyond him. Sludge crept closer to his brother/Carrier. Grimlock raised his large, right hand to encourage Sludge. Sludge cringed in instinctual fear of being hit and covered his optics with his hands. Grimlock had often struck him in frustration and anger over Sludge’s lack of understanding. Grimlock felt a shard of pain in his spark at Sludge’s reaction. He had been short tempered and cruel to large Brontosaur ‘bot. Grimlock clicked a deeply felt apology and continued to hold his hand out to Sludge. He flared his EM field to entice Sludge over. Sludge finally peeped out over his large hands to look at Grimlock and Swoop. Grimlock was holding Swoop. Swoop was suckling and seemed to almost in recharge. Their combined EM fields were soft, peaceful and full of familial completion. Sludge started twice toward his brother/Carrier but stopped abruptly after a few feet. The deeply engrained fear of pain at the ends of those large servos was greater than the hunger and need for a bond. Grimlock patiently continued to flare his EM field and softly call to his large, slow brother/child. Swoop’s suckling had caused the twin of his feeding nub to start leaking energon. Sludge could smell it, and he was tired of being afraid of his brother and hurting. He threw himself at Grimlock’s open arm. He buried his face plates into the spark chamber and feeding nub. He made small sobbing sounds of relief as he felt his brother/Carrier’s large hand gently caress his small sensory horns. Without quite knowing how, Sludge found the large feeding nub of his brother/Carrier in his oral cavity. He bit down hard at the wonderful sensation and sucked hard. Grimlock yelped in pain but did not push Sludge away.

“Gentle, gentle.” Grimlock whispered to Sludge riding out the pain as best he could from the overzealous Sludge. He continued to slowly stroke the large mech’s horns to soothe Sludge so he would stop the ravenous biting and sucking. Slowly, Sludge figured out the correct way to suckle. His EM field mingled with Grimlock’s and Swoops. He found calm and acceptance from his brother that he always needed.

Snarl broke away from Slag next. He wanted what he could see with his own optics. He had felt so ugly and alone. He hated the way he looked as a Stegosaur…the way the regular Cybertronians looked at him with revulsion. He hated that he sounded stupid when he spoke whether in Dinobot dialect or Cybertronian. When he was younger, he had prayed and wished to Primus to wake up a regular Cybertronian ‘bot. He desperately wanted to fit in and be liked but didn’t know how to do either. He didn’t fit in obviously with the Autobots, but he found he didn’t fit in with the Dinobots either. He spent so much of his time absolutely alone. He desperately wanted someone, anyone, to look beneath his ugly exterior and harsh speaking to see a spark of worth for something other than killing and fighting. Grimlock looked up from the two brothers/children on his chassis and met the optics of the surliest and most antisocial of all of the Dinobots. His optics were wide and full of painful vulnerability and tentative hope. Grimlock had not been unaware of Snarl’s feelings. He had tried to reach out before to him, but Snarl’s silence had been the only answer. Grimlock hadn’t thought that Snarl didn’t know how to open to him but that Snarl didn’t want any companionship so had virtually ignored Snarl outside of missions and meetings. Snarl’s EM field reached out first, starved of touch and affection. When Grimlock did not pull his back and instead opened it widely for the comfort of the large Stegosaur ‘bot, Snarl’s face bloomed into a smile of profound happiness. He threw himself at Grimlock. Grimlock caught the ‘bot’s face in his hands and gently kissed his helm. 

“You always have a home and you are wanted.” Grimlock said looking deep into the optics of Snarl.

Snarl made himself comfortable by Sludge who was recharging. His intakes rattled with each exhalation. Snarl found a feeding nub and his EM merged with his family’s. For the first time in his long life, he felt appreciated, understood and loved. He quickly drained his line and was falling into the first good recharge he had in vorns to the rhythms of Grimlock’s spark beat and the security of his other brother’s EM fields.

The last Dinobot, Slag, sat and stared obstinately. While the sparkling protocols were demanding that he bond with Grimlock, there was too much of Slag’s internal nature still at work. He was independent and self-sufficient. He didn’t need anyone. He was capable of leading the Dinobots and wanted to work independently from time to time. Grimlock had ignored his abilities and kept him on a short leash which further enflamed the Triceratops ‘bot. He fought with the others and had a sharp glossa as a result of frustration not any inherent hatred. He wasn’t stupid. He knew there were none others like them. When Grimlock realized Slag would not come to him, he gently eased out of the sleeping mass of his brothers/children. They roused slightly for their brother/leader/Carrier. He gently shushed them with gentle touches. They fell back into deep recharge implicitly trusting Grimlock. Grimlock moved slowly to Slag and knelt down in front of him. He reached out and gently embraced the stubborn Dinobot in an all-engulfing hug. Slag snarled and tried to push away, but his actions held no strength. The close proximity of his brother/Carrier broke the last barriers to his resistance. The Triceratops ‘bot did not cry or collapse. It wasn’t in his nature, usually. He leaned against Grimlock and meshed his EM field with Grimlock’s. Grimlock gently led Slag back to the heap of his brethren. He found a comfortable spot by Swoop and a full teat of energon to fuel him. He was lulled too to recharge with the completed and unbreakable bonds of a Cybertronian family.

Grimlock looked down at his chassis and his sleeping brothers/children curled against his feeding lines and spart. With the new Carrier programming fully integrated, he realized his own errors in dealing with Swoop, Sludge, Snarl and Slag. He also saw his own errors in how he perceived himself and the Dinobots in conjunction with the Autobots. This was a beginning. He knew the unexpected comfort of a family bond and suckling was a boon they had needed. It would not make up for the past pains and mistakes, but it could help forge a better future for the unique Dinobots.

Grimlock slid down to make himself comfortable on the floor. He knew he was going to need a much bigger berth. He didn’t think his brothers/children would all choose to suckle and recharge with him on a regular basis, but he did think they would seek him out when they needed it. Once in awhile, they would probably dog pile him as they had done tonight. He found a comfortable way to recharge. The others slid closer to him in recharge. Grimlock fell into an exhausted recharge. It had been a trying event to integrate the new programming from his dearly departed Creators. During the night, one or another of the Dinobots would partially wake to root for a feeding nub for comfort or sustenance.


	3. Epilogue

Rodimus Prime politely pinged Grimlock to enter the Dinobot living quarters. He needed their assistance with upcoming missions into ‘Con territory. He wanted to talk to Grimlock privately as Kup and the others were not convinced that Dinobot assistance were the answer. Grimlock met him at the door. The surly mech opened the door and looked with surprise at the Prime.

“Can I come in?” Rodimus asked gently. He had no desire to rile up the prickly mech before him. 

Grimlock nodded and silently showed Rodimus inside. Rodimus was surprised at what he perceived as he moved through the Dinobots living quarters. He knew about a human year back something had occurred within the Dinobot ranks though nothing was said of it. Their internal and external fighting had escalated to a breaking point. Rodimus was seriously thinking of having the irascible and uncontrollable creatures put into stasis. Then the antics had just stopped. No one knew why. They still argued but they didn’t physically fight and destroy things, themselves or other Autobots. They saved their brutality and destruction for the ‘Cons alone.

Rodimus noticed their EM fields were deeply emeshed and relatively calm. He didn’t sense spark bonds, but something closer to family bonds of typical Cybertronians. He put it out of his processor. Dinobots were not capable of it.  
His optics widened to comical proportions as he walked through the Dinobot living quarters and had to re-boot them many times. Sludge was sitting in a large chair trying to read a human young adult novel. He slowly read the words out loud and often stumbled.

Grimlock stopped and spoke gently to Sludge, “Him Sludge, reading well. Keep trying. Will get better.”

Sludge looked up and smiled gratefully at his leader.

Further in, Snarl was sitting alone with a large canvas and paint brushes. He was painting a memory of an Earth sunset. Grimlock silently went up and gently caressed the Stegasaurus’ helm. Snarl leaned into that gentle touch and continued to paint.  
Rodimus was sure his processor had glitched, or he had gotten into some bad high grade. This could not be happening. Dinobots were destructive and stupid. 

Grimlock passed down the hall and motioned to Rodimus to follow him. Rodimus followed behind in a bemused fugue. He grated to an ungainly halt as he passed by Swoop’s recharge room open door.

“What!” Rodimus gasped out at the scene.

Swoop sat on his recharge berth with First Aid wrapped gently in his arms. First Aid was leaning contentedly against the Pterosaur’s chest plates. Swoop would gently kiss the lip plates of the small Protectobot lovingly. They were oblivious to the flustered Prime.

Grimlock turned around and barked, “Come on Prime. We have things to discuss.” Rodimus belatedly realized Grimlock spoke to him in normal tones and conversation. He followed Grimlock to his office.

Grimlock threw himself down in his chair and waited with mischievous glee in his optics for the confused Prime to start asking questions.

Rodimus had completely forgotten what he came here for with the revelations at hand. “What…what?” Rodimus began lamely.

Grimlock laughed at Rodimus. “Oh, Swoop and First Aid have been courting for awhile now.”

Grimlock had been overjoyed with the timid and shy Swoop finally gained enough confidence to ask to court First Aid. First Aid’s faceplates lit up like a supernova at Swoop’s gentle stammering and hopeful look. He too had been infatuated with the larger Pterosaur but didn’t know how to ask him so suffered in silence until Swoop had shyly broached the subject. The other Dinobots and Grimlock had been protective of gentle Swoop and carefully monitored the fledgling relationship intensely in the beginning days and weeks. When they were satisfied that First Aid was not toying with their baby brother and that First Aid’s gesalt brothers were not going to interfere, they left Swoop and First Aid to court as they saw fit. 

“When?” Rodimus squeaked out.

“Why don’t you ask First Aid.” Grimlock said coyly. He knew First Aid loved to talk about how wonderful Swoop was to any ‘bot foolish enough to ask. Their audios would be filled with paeans of the perfection of Swoop.

The last straw for the fledgling Prime was Slag entered the office. “Oh pardon me, Grimlock, I didn’t know you were indisposed.” Slag politely turned to leave but Grimlock motioned to him to stay.

“You can report. This information is of use to Rodimus Prime, too.” Grimlock said.

Slag’s chest plates puffed up at the implicit trust and pride of Grimlock. “My suspicions were correct, Grimlock. Decepticons are trying to build a base on the dark side of the Earth moon. It would seem they are trying to retake the planet for its resources. They are running low on energon and other resources. I also found strong energon crystal signatures in the meteor belt. I suspect they know that too. I think we should rout them from the Sol system and Earth. Rodimus then can send some of the city formers and others to mine the energon and protect the system.” Slag finished the report of his reconnaissance mission.

Grimlock had actually listened to Slag when he told him what he thought about the absence of Decepticons in the Cybertronian quadrants and even more amazingly not only allowed but encouraged the Triceratops ‘bot to investigate.

“Good Work, Slag!” Grimlock said with a feral grin. “Go spend some time with Snarl. I need to talk to Rodimus, and then I’ll discuss and plan with you, Snarl, what we are going to do about the ‘Cons.” 

Slag saluted his leader and turned to leave with real pride singing in his spark. He was appreciated for his abilities and had become a reliable second-in-command that Grimlock trusted implicitly. Rodimus’ processor froze up at the new information that was completely unknown by his own network of Black Ops and spies as well as the added burden of the Dinobots’ unexplained evolutions. His optics dimmed and fell over in a great heap at the desk of Grimlock. The Tyrannosaur ‘bot laughed uproariously at the unconscious Prime. He still had enough of a mean streak to enjoy seeing the great Rodimus Prime fall on his aft.

Grimlock was silently proud of his small family. They had all made great strides since the Carrier/Sparkling protocols had unexpectedly been uploaded. Sludge was trying to expand his processor. Grimlock had asked that First Aid help upgrade Sludge’s processor and CPU when he felt the time was right. Snarl was still quiet but no longer withdrawn. He often sat in comfortable silence with his brothers and leader/Carrier. He enjoyed quiet hobbies like painting but no longer felt the sting of isolation. When he felt particularly lonely, he would spend a quiet night curled up against Grimlock. Slag was showing real promise as a second-in-command. Swoop had blossomed in confidence. In fact, they all had grown tremendously in the last year. Once in a while, they would all dog pile on Grimlock and enjoy the pleasure of suckling combined with the harmony of their enmeshed EM fields. Usually, one or two would need their brother/Carrier at night, particularly after a hard day and find a favorite feeding nub. Grimlock found a deep satisfaction in being the leader/Carrier of his little family. Maybe one vorn, the Dinobots would be recognized for the inherent sparks as Cybertronians, Grimlock mused. 

He was grateful to Wheeljack and Ratchet. He spoke to them one evening after everyone else was in recharge, “Me, Grimlock, lie. Will not beat Wheeljack and Ratchet when return to Well. Will thank you.”


End file.
